


I Think I Need A Doctor

by Groot_the_tree



Series: Whumptober 2020 [29]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Developing Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Doctor/Patient, F/M, Getting Together, Hurt Sherlock Holmes, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Sort Of, Stabbing, Stitches, Trust, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Groot_the_tree/pseuds/Groot_the_tree
Summary: No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR Intubation | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest-Sherlock gets hurt and turns to the doctor he trusts most.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Series: Whumptober 2020 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948387
Comments: 14
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

It was nothing unusual for Sherlock Holmes to be in the hospital, in fact, most people around him could name off five times he’s been there during this year alone. From his job to the lifestyle he lives, he was always on the verge of injury or death. 

So, to hear that he had stumbled into A&E wasn’t unusual. What was unusual though, was the knife sticking out of his side and the blood slowly going through his clothes around the injury.

He was keeping a tight hold on it as he makes his way to the desk, almost falling on it. 

“Is Molly Hooper here?” He asks, looking up at the lady behind the desk, deathly pale and sweat breaking out all over, looking like he was close to passing out. 

“Yes, but sir, she-“ 

“Get her for me,” Sherlock says, cutting her off as he lowers himself into a wheelchair a man had brought out next to him, seeming to be waiting for him to get into it. 

“She’s in the morgue.”

“I’m aware of her job. You’re aware that I’m here to visit her often. If you’re not someone is. Either way, get her for me.” He demands, sensing she was going to say more and not wanting to hear it.

The receptionist sighs but nods as she turns and walks away to get Dr. Hooper as the man who had brought out the wheelchair into one of the private rooms, not too sure what was to be done about the situation. 

“I’ll just go get a doctor to stitch you up then, shall I?” He asks as he walks towards the door. 

“Don’t bother, Molly Hooper will be here soon,” Sherlock replies, off handily as his eyes close and his head rests against the wall. 

The man nods and chooses to leave the room without another word, thinking the girl from the morgue wasn’t who he would want to stitch him up but this man clearly had his mind made up.

Sherlock wasn’t sure how long had passed before the sound of the door open startled him, making him jump a little, eyes opening to see who was coming in. 

“Sherlock, what happened?” Molly asks, looking at him in shock for a moment. 

“I got stabbed,” He responds motioning towards the knife in his side. 

Molly nods, shaking herself out of it as she goes to pull on gloves, “You could have let someone else do this, you know. It would have been quicker and, well, I don’t normally work with living patients.” 

“Yes, but I trust you,” Sherlock responds, looking to her, “You know I trust you.” 

“But you can trust the other doctors too,” Molly reminds him, bringing a suturing kit over, taking a breath to prepare herself. “Are you sure you don’t want one of them to do it? Or let them put you under?” She asks. 

“I want you to do it, Molly,” He responds, looking down at her, holding his coat back and leaning to the side so she has more room to work, “I’ll be fine.” 

Molly looks at him as he looks back and gives her a nod, she returns it and gets out a needle to start numbing the area before preparing some gauze, pressing it to his side, pulling out the knife. 

Sherlock hisses but it wasn’t long before the pain lessens and he can only feel the pulling sensation that always comes with getting stitches. 

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” Molly asks, her eyes staying on what she was doing rather than looking at him.

“I was stabbed,” Sherlock repeats. 

“Yes, but why me?” She asks, “Why did you get stabbed? Why do you only want me treating you?” 

“I was stabbed because I was exploring on my own for the case I’ve been working on.” Sherlock responds, “Yes, I know how much you hate that,” He adds, quickly, seeing the look on her face before continuing on, not giving her time to say anything. “As for why you, it’s as I said. I trust you. Normally when I’m brought in I’m not conscious or in too much pain or too out of it to suggest you doing it. This time I wasn’t.”

For a moment, there’s silence then, quietly, Sherlock adds, “I always want you around when I’m hurt.” 

Molly nods, glancing away from his side for a moment to look at his face, wondering if it was the blood loss talking or if he meant that. 

“Say something?” He whispers, his mind going surprisingly fast for how little blood is currently in his body, reminding him how he shouldn’t express emotions, this was why. How caring is a weakness and, by saying anything, he was showing his weakness. He tries to quieten those thoughts while looking at her. 

“You know how I feel, Sherlock,” Molly whispers, looking back to his side continuing to work. “I just want to know if you really mean this.” 

“Of course. Of course, I do. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise, you know that. I never say things to spare feelings. I don’t lie about things that would hurt you like this.” 

Molly nods, “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” She says, wiping clean the area where the stitches are, starting to clean up. 

As she stands, she presses a kiss to his mouth before throwing her things away and walking out of the room, leaving Sherlock alone and confused.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short optional chapter to give a more sure ending than the last open-ended one.

Sherlock was left in the room, staring at the door where Molly had just walked out, unsure of what to do. He knew he was finished and probably should leave but he was more confused than ever and felt like he needed answers. 

Emotions were not something he was good at, everyone knew that, in fact, he tends to shy away from them, pretending like they don’t exist. However, this was one case where curiosity was winning out.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was walking out of the room and following behind Molly, wishing the wound wasn’t there so he wouldn’t be worrying about tearing his stitches as he runs to catch up with her. 

Then again, when has something like that ever stopped him? There are questions to be answered, after all. 

“Molly,” He calls when he’s only a couple of steps away. “Wait.” 

She stops, turning to look at him. “What is it, Sherlock?” She asks, seeming exasperated, even to him. 

“I was only wondering what that was about? The uhh, the kiss.” He responds, careful not to look at her for too long. This was all entirely new and he didn’t want to mess it up before he’s even received a single answer. 

“Why don’t you tell me?” She asked back, hesitant, and voice soft, as though afraid of what he would say but needing to know. His voice sounding all too familiar to him with that tone. He wonders why the pain is in his chest and if he’s going to have a heart attack, even if the chances are low and they don’t typically include chest pain.

Right, not the point. He shakes his head a little, coming out of his thoughts. 

“I believe I explained myself, well enough. I just don’t know what your response meant. Was it an attempt to say you understand and return it? An apology? I am aware I am oblivious to other people and their body languages, there are too many grey areas and I would like a more solid answer.” 

“Sherlock, you know how I feel about you. I know you do.” She returns. 

He nods, shifting around, seemingly uncomfortable with the topic but pressing on, nevertheless, “Yes, I am aware of the feelings but I have been, to say the least, less than polite about them and, as I understand it, things like that tend to kill emotions one would feel for someone else. I would like to know if this is the case and if so-“ He stops, feeling her lips on his, once again. 

“Stop talking, Sherlock,” She whispers, pulling back a little. “Would you like dinner? Together, I mean. Tonight?” 

He looks at her, “I umm…yes,” He responds, his brain seemingly shut off after feeling her lips on his and it took a moment for it to start back up. “Yes, I would like that.” He says again with more confidence. 

“Okay, come to mine tonight and we’ll have dinner.” She smiles, before walking away again, turning back to give him a smile and shy nod, leaving Sherlock staring after her, having an answer but still quite confused with the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are nice.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are nice.


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